


i feel romance in your smile

by vulcanistics



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Clubbing, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Paris Saint-Germain F.C., Romantic Fluff, anyway they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanistics/pseuds/vulcanistics
Summary: There are photos from the night before on the PSG group chat and Julian scrolls through them, not quite looking at them carefully, until he comes across a photo of Presnel and him. His cheeks heat up as he stares down at it—the photo is slightly blurred but Julian can make out his hands resting on Presnel’s lower back. His own face is shadowed by darkness, but Presnel’s head is thrown back, caught mid-laughter.Or, Julian and Presnel have a conversation following the PSG end-of-the-season party.





	i feel romance in your smile

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Paris Sun by Nelly Furtado.

The place Paris Saint-Germain rents out for them to celebrate their four titles and the end of the season is filled with people dancing and jostling against each other, and Julian neatly avoids being accidentally elbowed by Cavani. Cavani raises his hands in apology as he moves past Presnel and him. Presnel’s amused burst of laughter rings in Julian’s ears, warm and loud, and Julian ducks his head to hide the blush spreading across his face. Presnel holds his hand tightly as he continues maneuvering the both of them to the centre of the dance floor. Julian spots Marquinhos and Angel at the bar, engaged in what appears to be a drinking contest, guzzling down shot after shot, as Thiago films the two of them.

“Let’s see your moves, babe,” Presnel shouts to be heard over the music.

The dance floor is dark, illuminated every few minutes by colourful flashing lights and Julian is immensely grateful that Presnel cannot see how flushed his face is. Presnel suddenly steps closer to him, leaning right into his personal space, his breath warm against his ear – and the rest of the club spins out of his existence around him.

Someone, Julian thinks it might be Kevin, yells his name and Julian looks around into the darkness of the crowd. He can barely make out the details of the faces around him, not when he is incredibly aware of the weight of Presnel’s hands resting on his hips. Julian allows Presnel to direct their movement on the dance floor as he sways awkwardly.

“This song is about sex,” Presnel whispers into Julian’s ears, his voice pitched low and Julian somehow hears him over the thumping bass.

Presnel’s lips graze the side of Julian’s face as he pulls his face away, grinning widely at Julian.

Julian laughs and rolls his eyes, his cheeks reddening under the steadiness of Presnel’s gaze. “Thanks for that wonderful piece of information, Kim.”

He drapes his hands over Presnel’s shoulders and tries to focus on the song playing over the club speakers.

–

Julian blinks blearily at the ceiling above him. It takes him a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and he sighs as he realises where he is—Kimpembe’s apartment. He’s lying on Presnel’s couch, still dressed in the clothes from last night. His jeans and hoodie stick uncomfortably to his body and he smells of beer and sweat. His back aches as he stretches out lazily. He remembers leaving the party in an Uber, he remembers rolling down the windows and singing German rap as Presnel laughed against his shoulder. He usually sleeps in the guest room whenever he’s over at Presnel’s but last night, he’d fallen on the couch, exhausted and drained and sleepy. Presko had tried to convince him to shift to the guest room, Julian remembers his voice in the back of his head. He remembers the pressure of Presnel’s hands on his hips as they danced and he groans. Curling in on himself, Julian turns his head to bury it into the cushion, and promptly goes back to sleep.

When he wakes up for the second time, the sun is high in the sky, and warm light streams through the windows. Julian lifts his hand to eyes and looks at the sky through his fingers. Noise from the Parisian streets filter in through the windows and Presnel's apartment is way too quiet which means he's probably still asleep. Julian groans as he sits up, he really needs to use the bathroom and take a goddamn shower. He makes a move to stand up and nearly trips over his shoes, steadying himself at the last minute.

Julian covers a yawn with the back of his hand and focuses on the warmth of Presnel’s red carpet under his feet as he makes his way towards the guest room. The last time he had come over, Presnel had pestered him into bringing a couple of spare clothes to leave in the guest room in case he ever spent the night and forgot to carry a change of clothes. Julian had laughed, intending on dismissing the idea but Presnel had looked at him with such earnest and hopeful eyes, that he had hastily agreed. He's thankful that he actually listened because he definitely needs to change out of his clothes from last night.

The door to Presnel's bedroom is open and Julian glances into the bedroom, curiously, and freezes. Presnel is sprawled star-shaped across his bed, asleep and shirtless, with the bedsheet pooling around his waist. He really shouldn't stare, but Julian allows himself this one indulgence, eyes sweeping across Presnel—he's gorgeous, and he really should have got over his crush on him by now, Julian thinks ruefully as he backs away from Presnel’s bedroom door.

–

The thing is, Julian knows he has a crush on Presnel—has known since December when he’d gone home for Christmas. He had been in the middle of telling his family a story about Presnel when he’d suddenly realised that his parents were exchanging quiet glances and Patrick was grinning broadly. His brother had smiled at him knowingly as he leaned across the table to ruffle Julian’s hair, “Anything else you want to tell us about your boyfriend, little Jules?”

Julian had sat there, staring in horror at his family for a good minute before his brain suddenly flew into action. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you have a crush on him, yeah?” Patrick asked, cautiously, still smiling, and Julian had felt his entire world shift on his axis as he thought about his relationship with Presnel, about how he was always seeking out Presnel’s presence, about Benni asking him about Presnel whenever Julian called him.

His father had met his panicked gaze from across the table and had nodded at him, “He’s a good footballer.”

He had spent the rest of his break texting Presnel and video-calling him, and avoiding the knowing looks Patrick kept sending him from the other side of their room. It was just a crush, he’d get over it eventually, and besides, Presnel was an affectionate man, always touching people, kissing their cheeks, Julian wasn’t special. His brother had just sighed deeply and hugged him when Julian told him this.

–

The towel hangs over Julian’s shoulder as he sits cross-legged on Presnel’s couch, nursing his cup of coffee on his lap as he checks his messages. There are photos from the night before on the PSG group chat and Julian scrolls through them, not quite looking at the carefully, until he comes across a photo of Presnel and him. His cheeks heat up as he stares down at it—the photo is slightly blurred but Julian can make out his hands resting on Presnel’s lower back. His own face is shadowed by darkness, but Presnel’s head is thrown back, caught mid-laughter.

There’s a sudden loud groan from Presnel’s bedroom that startles Julian and he almost spills his coffee on to his lap. Placing the cup on the coffee table, he runs his fingers through his still slightly damp hair before breathing in deeply and smiling down at the floor. Don't do anything too embarrassing, Julian whispers wryly to himself as he curls himself up on the couch and looks over his shoulder. Presnel stumbles out of his room a few minutes later, wearing a pair of boxers and pulling a tank top over his head. He pauses when he spots Julian smiling at him from the couch, eyes widening slightly.

“Hey,” Julian says with a small wave of his hand.

A lazy grin spreads across Presnel’s face as he walks towards Julian, “Mon petit chou.”

Julian furrows his eyebrows at the words and averts his gaze from Presnel. “I made you coffee.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” He probably should have expected it but Julian still squeaks in surprise when he feels Presnel lean over the back of the sofa and wrap his arms around him. Presnel peppers sloppy kisses on his cheek and Julian half-heartedly shoves him away and rubs at his face, “Gross! Kim, you’ve not even brushed your teeth.”

“I’m not the one who collapsed on the couch without even showering,” Presnel fires back, sticking his tongue out at Julian before hoisting himself over the couch.

“The red cup is yours,” Julian says with a smile, “I just made it, so it might still be hot.”

Presnel throws him a grateful look as he leans forward to pick up his cup, cradling it between his hands. Julian watches Presnel blow gently at the coffee in an attempt to cool it down before he takes a sip.

Presnel’s eyelashes flutter when he licks his lips, “Please move in with me and become my personal coffee maker.”

“It’s literally just instant coffee, I only added milk and sugar.”

“But you made it with love,” whines Presnel, leaning against Julian as he settles down on the couch.

“Yeah,” Julian swallows the lump in his throat, “Yeah, I did.”

–

“So, have you seen the photos from last night?” Presnel asks, stretching his legs out across Julian’s lap. Julian pauses the YouTube video he was in the middle of watching—some song Mesut had been raving enthusiastically about—to look at Presnel.

He bites the inside of his cheek nervously, thinking of the photo of the two of them dancing, “Kinda. I didn't go through all of them though.”

Presnel looks up from his phone, his gaze steady and considering, “Huh. Did you see the photo where we look like we're kissing? Kevin and pretty much everyone has sent heart emojis in response to it.”

Julian gapes at Presnel, and tries to hold back an anguished sound, “Kissing?”

“Yeah. Not that we actually kissed. If we did, I would never forget it,” Presnel’s gaze drops down to his lips for the briefest of seconds, before snapping back to Julian’s face. It's so quick that Julian’s not sure if it actually happened or if he imagined it. Presnel’s phrasing was peculiar, thinks Julian as he goes over Presnel’s sentence, there was none of his typical playful flirtatiousness. Julian’s eyes flick to Presnel’s clenched jaw.

“Apparently it's everyone's favourite photo of the night. Even Neymar's,” Presnel smiles at him tightly.

Julian pushes Presnel’s feet off his lap and turns to face him. Something about the tone of Presnel’s voice makes him want to push back against it.

“Presko—Presnel, what did you mean by that? If we kissed, why would you never forget about it?” Julian asks, seriously.

Presnel stares at him before laughing sharply and rubbing at the back of his neck, “You really are something else, aren’t you, Julian Draxler?”

“I don’t understand,” Julian says, his forehead crinkled with confusion.

“How would you? For all your ability to read situations, you can be really blind sometimes.” Presnel retorts with a bitter smile.

The sharp bitterness Presnel’s voice cuts through him and Julian feels himself deflate, he shouldn’t have pushed. The flicker of longing in Presnel’s eyes, Presnel staring at his lips, Presnel talking about them kissing—he’d mistaken it for what he wanted it to be and he’d fucked up.

He pushes himself up against the armrest of the sofa, and wraps his arms around his knees, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Presnel doesn’t look at him as he sighs deeply, “If I kissed you, I’d never forget it because I have a stupid fucking crush on you and I’ve been flirting with you for the past ten months. I figured you must either be the most oblivious person in the world or you were straight or you knew and didn’t feel the same way and ignoring it was your way of letting me down easy. Dude, seriously, why would you rub it in my face like that? I thought you were better than that.”

“I’m not–I’m not straight,” Julian blurts out. Presnel actually liked him, Presnel had a crush on him, Julian can feel himself heat up from how much he’s smiling, “And I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know you had a crush on me.”

“Well, now you know.”

Julian laughs breathlessly, “Yeah, yeah, now I know and I wish I’d known earlier, would have saved me months of pining for your stupid ass.”

Presnel jerks his head up to stare at Julian, his face blank in shock, “Sorry, but what did you just say?”

“Kinda figured out I had a crush on you, was half in love with you over Christmas break. You were always touching everyone, so I assumed your flirting was playful and teasing. Thought I’d get over it.”

“Oh my god, babe, Julian, I call you babe. That’s fucking serious. I love you but you’re the most oblivious person I know, oh god,” Presnel buries his head in his hands but he’s laughing and Julian grins happily.

“In my defense, you didn’t know I liked you either.”

Presnel rolls his eyes and reaches out, gesturing for Julian to give him his hand, and Julian half-crawls, half-allows Presnel to pull him onto his lap. Presnel shakes his head, smiling in amusement, “Never thought that the first time I kissed you would be on my couch but here we are.”

Julian leans forward and cups Presnel’s face in his hands and kisses him. He pulls away gently and touches his forehead to Presnel’s and smiles, “But here we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm writing footy fic after a gap of two years, and I hope you guys liked it. I'm sorry if the end seems a little rushed. Please do leave kudos, comments, and critique. 
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](https://www.kayhavertz.tumblr.com)


End file.
